The American Civil War
by Fyreflare
Summary: This is a piece that did fairly well on my dA account, so I thought I'd share it here. This is told from the POV of my Hetalia OC Confederacy, accounting her life up to the Civil War as well as the turning point of the war and the final surrender at Appomattox Courthouse. It was written for a Feels Contest so it is designed to be sad. I hope you enjoy and please drop me a message!


How could things have gone so wrong? One moment we were happy, the next... Another tear spills down my cheek, streaming down the thin layer of caked on red. Whether that red is from the Southern clay or... No, I can't even think of that. Because I know it's not my own. Mud covers my dress, ripped up and shredded, only a shadow of the fine gown it had once been. The kind of dress that would make any gal jealous. I wore only the finest, cotton-spun dresses. Now, I can hardly afford such extravagances.

How dare he?! America, demanding that I just do as he says! That's all I've ever done! But sometimes, I just can't take it any longer! My hand clenches around the buck antler handle of my dagger, it too covered in red mud. Everything is covered in red. Looking up, even the full moon gleams at me with it's usual harvest orange. So much blood has been spilled, so much earth has been dug up, even the sky is filled with red. It's too much. Too much. But what can I do? I made my point clear. These were my borders, and he was not to come across them. I am my own. I am the Confederate States of America.

A younger me would have laughed at the idea of splitting our union. The very thought of it was ridiculous. We didn't really need each other, at least, we didn't think so. We we're both farmers, ranchers, frontier-folk. That's just the way we lived. Then something changed. It started in Europe, and moved across the ocean to us. America left the farm for the factory. I'll never understand why. The pay is a thousand times better where we were. At least it came to be. We drifted apart, but we weren't broken up. Even then, we were still in love. No matter if he lived in a city, working in a crowded factory for little pay while I lived in a mansion, with all my needs catered to and the only thing I ever had to do was sell some cotton to the Northerners, we were still in love. He insisted that his way of life was better. I didn't see it, not then, not now, not ever. I am who I am, he is who he is. We were fine with that.

Industrial Revolution

"_South?" America asks as he strides into our home after work. "South, where are you?"_

"_In here." I call back. I meet him in the parlor, our newest state, Maine, in my arms. She was born March 15, barely two months old. "Maine started crying." I explain simply._

_North smiles broadly and takes the child from my arms. "She's quiet now." he observes, bouncing his little girl lightly and rocking back and forth on his heels. It really is the sweetest thing to see him acting, well, like a father. "I got that job." he adds casually._

_My smile falters. "Why? The city is so far away!" I reason._

_America shakes his head. "Not as far as when we moved West."(Referring to the Louisiana Territory, not all the way to the West Coast.)_

"_Well, I suppose that's true." I watch him hold Maine for a moment longer in silence before speaking again. "All those factories that are appearing, it doesn't worry you?"_

_North looks up at me, a puzzled expression on his face. "No. Should it?"_

_I sit down in one of our hand-made chairs. "I... I think so..." With a nod of determination, I add, "Yes. It should. North, we've always been 'live off the land' people. That's what brought us from thirteen colonies to..." I mentally list off the names of our children. There's been so many recently! "Twenty-three states."_

_America's eyes widen. "That many? We've only been a country for..." He does a quick calculation in his head. "Forty-four years. That's not that long at all!"_

_I resume my smile for a bit, remembering how far we've come since 1776. "I know. Time does go quickly when you're prosperous." I shake my head, trying to bring myself back to the topic. "But that just proves my point! We've grown so much, gained so much land! We weren't industrial back then, why should we be now?"_

_America pauses, trying to think of how best to explain his ideas to me. "South... Britain has gotten so __powerful because he industrialized. Then other Europeans traded the farm for the factory, and now they're all rich!" He lowers his voice and comes closer to me. "Caitlin..." He tucks Maine closer to his chest and kneels in front of me. "I just want a better life for our children. That's all I've ever wanted. If industrializing is the way to do it, then how can I turn that down?" _

_I reach out and gently stroke his cheek. "North... I'm just not sure... I can't just leave my plantations. Where will you get raw goods if the farms shut down?"_

_He shakes his head. "Not all of the farms! We'll just... make a compromise!"_

_I bite my bottom lip nervously. "A compromise? Such as?"_

_His eyes light up, a beaming smile gracing his features. "I'll be industrial, and you can stay agricultural! The northern land is no good for crops anyway. I'll leave the farming for more fertile soil, and I can be industrial to turn those crops into finished goods! It's going to work! We'll be economically independent from Europe! We won't need them anymore!" He seems so excited about this, how can I not be happy for him?_

"_If you're sure... then I'll agree to this plan." I sigh._

_North kisses me. "I promise, this will make our lives better!"_

_I hear soft crying from the nursery and get up to see who it is this time. "I believe you, Alfred. I love you too much not to." _

Then came the issue neither of us wanted to talk about: slavery.

It was accepted as fact back then that slaves were a part of life. North had them, I had them. It was never really that big a problem. Europe started outlawing slavery in their colonies. I didn't understand why, but Europeans were always very strange to me. We didn't mind them too much. We had each other, and that's all we needed.

North wanted more territories. So had I. It seemed like a good idea. The more land we had, the better life seemed to get. And expanding borders felt so i_good_/i. So what if we push out a few Natives? There's plenty of land. They can just go there. East Native America didn't like us from the start, and the feeling was mutual. She really was a pain. Sending her away to bother Plains Native America seemed like as good an idea as any. All that land, and it was ours for the taking. All we had to do was conquer it.

Manifest Destiny

_I'm beginning to question the logic on which this plan rests. After nearly four hours of sitting in this rickety wagon, being shaken by every bump in this trail and hitch of the bulls, I'm starting to think that maybe this is more than just morning sickness. Arkansas and Michigan, the children that aren't yet old enough to live on their own, eye me warily. Can't say I blame them. Florida is sound asleep in Michigan's arms. She's such a good big sister. The wagon hits a particularly deep hole, sending the wooden structure into more rattling. Able to stand it no longer, I leap out of the wagon and hit the ground running. "North! Stop!" I cry between retches. _

_In an instant, America is by my side, a very concerned look on his face. "What's wrong?! What happened?!" he gasps._

_I fall to my knees, reeling from the torture of being in that stupid wagon for months on end. "I can't take it! All this traveling on top of being pregnant again... it's too much!" _

_North wraps his arms around my shoulders. "We'll get through this! I promise! There's only a few more weeks of travel and then we'll see California."_

_I purse my lips, not sure if I should believe that or not. "Only a few more weeks?" I question._

_America nods. "Promise. You've already made it this far." he reasons. _

_I sigh, and allow him to help me up. "Alright. But I'm not getting back in that wagon for a while."_

_North laughs softly. "No, I suppose not." He leads me over to the wagon, then up to the front where he steers. He jumps up first, then reaches down to help me up onto the wooden seat beside him. With a flick of the reins, the oxen begin moving again. "Any better?"_

_I shrug. "Not really. But at least I'm closer to you." I lean on his shoulder, closing my eyes. "You and your crazy ideas of Manifest Destiny."_

_He rests his head on mine, and we resume our long trek west. "Not crazy. Just American."_

Mile by mile, we traveled in our wagon across the old trails all the way to California. Starting from the East Coast, that's quite a ways. But it was worth it. North stuck it rich, finding gold in those mountain rivers worth three months pay back home. Settlers flooded that land like you can't imagine. Soon enough, we had ourselves a new state. Then came more and more. We gained new states all over the place, filling out that wrinkled map and the cradles. Of all our kids, Texas sure was the most difficult. We had to fight a war over him. In the process, we gained more land, meaning that our power now stretched from East to West, and boy was that something!

Mexican-American War

_North and all our sons who are old enough left our little ranch to fight in a war. A war over our newest son, Texas. Mexico claimed that the child belonged to her, because the land he represents she believes is still her territory. Understandably, Alfred did not agree. The land was independent after the _

_Americans who lived there overthrew the Mexican government. Texas was born December 29, 1845, the day of annexation. He's our state, our baby, and no one is going to take him away from us. _

"_Mama?" Michigan asks from behind me. _

_I turn to her from where I was staring out at the fields, lost in thought again. "Yes, Mi-Mi?" It's my own nickname for her. She hates it, but I've called her that since she was a little girl._

_She cringes slightly at being called that. "Um, Florida's woken from her nap and won't stop crying. Please make her be quiet! It's driving me insane!" she pleads._

_I laugh quietly. "That's the problem with children. You don't always know what they're upset about." I chide. As I near the ranch house, I can hear Florida wailing from the nursery. _

_Michigan gives me a pained look. "Mama..." she groans. "Just make her stop!"_

"_Hush, Mi-Mi. I'll deal with Florida, you go finish up the laundry outside." I chide._

_Michigan grimaces. "Fine." She storms out of the house to the laundry basin._

_I can't help but smirk. "Teenagers..." Upon entering the nursery, I can already tell what the problem is. I pick up Florida and rock her back and forth. "You're hungry, aren't you?" I whisper._

_Florida whimpers pitifully, her little hands grabbing onto the collar of my dress. "Mama..." she cries. She's two years old now, but still so dependent on me. _

_It's been hard without North here. I have to care for the children alone while he's off fighting Mexico with the boys. Sure, Michigan's here with me, and a few of my older daughters come by every now and then, but for the most part... I'm alone. _

_Florida has stopped crying and looks up at me with her father's blue eyes, my light brown hair framing her sweet face._

_I set her down on the floor of the nursery by her favorite doll and rub her head affectionately before going to check on my other baby._

_Texas is fast asleep in his crib, but I can tell he's starting to get some sense of what we countries feel. He's too young to feel most of it, but every now and then his breath hitches slightly. Even for an infant, being the battleground is painful. I stroke his nearly white hair gently, wishing that I could take the pain away. Of course, Alfred and I feel everything our states do, and our territories. We just don't feel it quite as strongly as they do. But, I noticed that I can't sense what Michigan does, and Alfred admitted to not being able to feel everything that happens in the southern states. It really isn't that much of a problem. That's why we're North and South. One country, just too big to be represented by one person. _

_I step away from Texas's crib and walk over to the dresser, where Alfred's most recent letter from the war rests against the mirror. He brags about how well everything is going, how brave our sons are. He's especially proud of Kentucky and Arkansas, as they led a successful cavalry attack last month. I'm proud of them as well. I just want them to come home soon._

I wipe away another tear. The corners of my mouth, which had risen remembering all the good times, now fell again as the bad ones came. With more power, came more arguments. Slavery or no slavery? As new parents, we wanted to let the kids decide. After all, what harm could be done? Oh, how very wrong were we. Little Kansas, sweetest baby in the world up until then, became a battleground. Blood everywhere. The child was in so much pain. It was our fault, though we blamed each other. As a mother, how could he not understand that I feel every bit of pain my baby goes through? But, the tighter I held her, the more pain I caused. Whenever North or I would try to hold her, the battles would worsen, sending her into another fit of agony. The worst feeling in the world is hearing your own child screaming... and knowing that if you did anything it'd only get worse.

Bleeding Kansas

"_Mama! Daddy!" Kansas calls from the nursery. I take in shallow breaths, clawing at my disheveled hair. I would give anything. ANYTHING! To take the pain away! My baby! My precious baby! Hot tears roll down my cheeks and land on the mending I was supposed to be doing. I can't take it! _

_Everything else has been nothing compared to this! I feel only a fraction of what Kansas does, and judging by the look on North's face as he's stares blankly at the cup of coffee in his hands, I'd say the same goes for him. _

_Kansas isn't officially a state yet. She was born in 1854, at the passing of the Kansas-Nebraska Act. We thought it'd be a good idea to let the people of the territory vote on whether or not slavery should be permitted in that state. The idea was officially called "popular sovereignty". Yet another compromise. We're Americans, idealistic, optimistic, and democratic. We thought that maybe this could be settled without arguments. We were wrong. Very, very wrong._

_Kansas screams again, and I snap. I throw the fabric onto the ground and dart for the nursery. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back. "Let me go, North! Let me go! My baby!"_

"_South! You know why we can't go in there!" he barks. _

_I claw at the air, desperate to reach my child. "I don't care! My baby! My baby!" _

_Alfred uses all his strength to pin me onto the ground. "I said no!" he screams, the same crazed look in his blood-shot eyes. _

_I can't help it. I lose everything that kept me sane. I fight Alfred, clawing at him, kicking his stomach, anything I can! I have to get to my baby! I have to! _

"_Florida! Texas! Iowa!" Alfred yells. _

_Three of our children run in and gasp upon seeing me like this. Texas speaks first. "Dad... what-"_

"_Don't ask questions!" he orders. "Just help me!"_

_Florida is sixteen, Texas is fourteen, and Iowa is only thirteen. Texas and Iowa restrain me more. _

_Alfred's playing a dangerous game. He knows I won't hurt another of my children. I hope I won't. One bleeding child is enough._

_Florida rushes into the nursery and calms Kansas. She's the only one that seems able to. If either of us try to even so much as hold her, the child is in even more pain. _

_My shoulders tremble, my breath coming in short gasps as more tears run down my face. "North... I just want it to stop..." I sob quietly._

_America gets up off of me, deciding that I've mostly returned to my senses by this point. "I know."_

_Our sons allow me to stand slowly, but I can't. I just curl up against the wall and cry. "It's our fault. It's all our fault."_

My chipped nails dig into my palms. My baby. My precious baby. If only we had known. Compromise, compromise, compromise! That was all we had ever done! Neither of us was ever really happy! It was always walking the middle ground! North never got what he wanted, I never got what I really wanted, and the damage it did to our children: the states... It was more than any parent could take. We pretended it was all fine, that life would go on just as it had before, but that was lie. Our whole life together was built on a lie. A lie that we told ourselves, but could never believe no matter how hard we tried. North and I are too different. He's industrial, I'm agricultural. He's abolitionist, I'm a slave-owner. Well, I was.

What really broke our union was that last election. That man promised North that slavery wouldn't spread to any of the territories once they became states. Who is he to make that kind of decision?! My unborn baby will be what I want my baby to be! But that's not what really bothered me. He acted like I needed to be quarantined. Like slavery was some sort of _disease_ that had to be contained. Ha! The very thing that has made me rich beyond even the gold North found in the West?! How could there be anything wrong with that?! I treat my slaves well enough, but I made it very clear to North, slaves are property, not citizens. That was the Dred Scott ruling in the Supreme Court. That was law, and it had passed through the fire of judges and politicians that he had built up, therefore the law stands. He didn't like that too much. Not that it matters to me anymore. After Lincoln's election as our, no... _his_ new boss, I left him. I won't have that pompous Indiana boy telling me what to do. No. If I'm going to have a president, it's going to be someone who understands me. Someone like Davis. A good ole Southern boy, born and raised in the land of cotton. Everyone else is simply inferior.

Secession

_I'm not going to take this lying down. Not this time._

_North comes back from meeting with the Republican president, a bright smile on his face. "I like him! He'd be a good boss! I don't know why you refused to speak with him!" _

_I glare at my husband. "Because I don't want him as my boss, simple as that." I growl._

_North tilts his head to one side in confusion. "What's wrong with him as our boss?"_

"_He wants to quarantine me!" I spit. "With his plan, the balance of slave and abolitionist states will be upset in Congress! He wants to keep slavery from spreading! Like it's some kind of virus!"_

_North pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off an incoming headache. "South... I'm not sure slavery is such a good idea anymore." he admits._

_My jaw drops. "What?! North! How can you say that?!"_

_He looks away. "It just... doesn't seem right. Owning another human."_

"_It's that darn book, wasn't it?!" I screech. "That woman has never been on a plantation! She's never seen what life is actually like down South!"_

"_That doesn't mean that some of it isn't true." he replies quietly. _

_How can he say that?! I would never-! "Alfred, life for anyone in the South is a thousand times better than in the North! What have you got that I don't?! Cold weather and sweat shops?!"_

_North cringes. "South, he's not going to get rid of slavery. He's just going to reduce it. He's not doing anything against you." he reasons._

"_Shut up!" I screech._

_North takes a step back, not used to hearing me blow up like that. "South..."_

"_Don't call me that! Use my real name if anything! I refuse to be part of the US with Lincoln as our boss!" I threaten._

_America's eyes widen. "S- Caitlyn, don't say that! We have to stay together!"_

"_No, we don't." I turn and run from the corridor and out into the street where the carriage is waiting for me. But before I can get in, Alfred stops me. _

"_Caitlyn, what about the kids?!" he cries._

_I whirl on him. "What about them?! I'll take the Southern, you take the Northern! Neither of us can __sense anything that goes on beyond our borders anyway!"_

"_B- borders?! There are no borders between us! We are one country!"_

_I glare daggers at Alfred. "No. We're not." I snatch Alfred's glasses off of his face. "From now on, you are the United States of America. Not me."_

"_And what will you be, then?!" he shouts._

_I pause for a moment. "The Confederate States of America." I rip open the door of the carriage and step inside. "Goodbye, Union." _

I up and left him, set my sights on new horizons. By which I mean, new allies. I brought with me a good number of my children. Good children, all perfect little Southerners. South Carolina led them in secession. I've never been prouder of my little boy! Oh yes, his father was furious. What did I care? I asked for freedom from him. It's not my fault that the kids just like me better. Without North though, I realized just how undefended I really was. Not a problem, I've always got others to call on for help. England and France being my main buyers of cotton, I turned to them first for a little help. They seemed fine with it at first, but then North had to show his ugly face in the matter. He got them both convinced that I'm some kind of monster, turning this little break-up into a war of slavery. Of course, the European nations dropped out at once. If I know anything about my now i_ex_/i-husband, it's that he's not one you want to get angry. No one has ever really seen him angry, except me, Arthur, Matthew, and Francis. He hasn't even really gotten angry in front of the kids. There have been plenty of things that the states did to annoy us, but we would never lash out at them. At least, we didn't.

This war is beginning to be a little too much. It went well for me for a while. I never saw a battlefield myself until recently. South Carolina and his brothers all promised to fight for me. Such bravery. I suppose that's to be expected. He has been a state for a very long time. One of our first thirteen. It was hard to see him lying on bloody sheets in that infirmary. His blonde hair, so much like his father's, though I would never admit it, tangled and messy. Still, he smiled at me with the same brave smile, the same determined glint in his green eyes. He took my hand and asked me if he'd fought well enough for me. He asked if I was proud of him. I told him yes. I am very proud of him. He just smiled and laid back on the pillow as nurses pushed me out of the room. I snapped a little bit. I know nations can't die. I didn't know about states.

Gettysburg Wounds

_No. It can't be true. It can't. I push past nurses and doctors in that crowded infirmary. I see a figure laying on a white bed, blood staining the once spotless sheets. I fall to my knees in front of him, tears streaming down my cheeks as I look at the cut up face of my son. He has a black eye and a busted lip, with dried blood under his nose. Despite all that, he still smiles at me, albeit weakly._

"_H- hey, Mama..." he breathes. He uses the hand not bound in a cast to gently wipe away my tears . _

"_Why are you crying? Sure, North won that battle, but we're still strong. A battle's not a war." _

_I nod slowly, my heart breaking with every beat. "I know, baby. I know it's not."_

_South Carolina tries to sit up in bed, but I push him back down. He doesn't object. "Did I... do good?"_

"_Yes, baby. You did very good." My voice cracks, threatening to let more tears spill._

_He looks at me very seriously. "Are you... proud of... me?" he asks, his breath becoming shallow._

_I nod furiously. "Yes, baby! I'm very proud of you!" _

"_Am I... your... hero?"_

_Hero? I stroke his hair gently, the hair that without a doubt came from his father. Looks like that wasn't the only thing. "Yes, baby. You are my hero." _

"_Can you... tell... my sister... North... to be... strong?" he gasps._

_I hold his hand in mine and kiss it furiously. "Y- you tell her! Tell her when you get out of this infirmary! I'm sure she'd be delighted to see you! You two always were best friends growing up!"_

"_Mama... please?" he begs. His eyes plead with me in a way that he can't with words. I've never seen such fear in someone's eyes before. I never want to again. Especially not from my children._

"_I- I promise, Palmetto." I whisper to him, using the name I haven't used since he was very young. _

_He smiles and closes his eyes, resting his head on the pillow. "Thank you... Mama... I... love... you..."_

_Tears blur my vision, so that I can no longer see the son I desperately want to hold. "I love you, too." _

_He doesn't respond. _

"_P- palmetto? Baby, don't you dare-!" _

_Nurses pull me away from my son, trying to escort me away from his side. _

"_Palmetto! South Carolina!" I can't take it anymore. I have no energy to fight, so I let them drag me away. "Christopher!" _

I haven't seen him since that day. I've been taking his place on the front lines. To think, my own son shot by another of my sons. It isn't right. But that's all Alfred's fault. I shake my head. Everything is his fault. South Carolina being injured, the Europeans refusing to help me, Kansas being in so much pain... It's all his fault. If only he'd have let things be as they were! If only he didn't try to play the hero when no one needed saving! If only he'd have loved me enough to let go! I hate him. It burns in my heart, beating faster and faster, fiercer than any other emotion. I've felt this kind of passion before. A long time ago, when he won our independence from England. I was beyond happy! Joyful in ways words can't describe! What blessed freedom! Is it so strange that perhaps I'd want to feel that again? We had both wanted to be free from oppression by England, now I want to be free from oppression by North. But no. It doesn't work like that. It never has. The world is in America's favor. It seems to be. Especially after Gettysburg.

My sweet Southern boys had fought valiantly, but North's army was just a bit stronger. Not by much, though. My boys did damage. Three straight days of damage on both sides. War is ugly. War is cruel. But war is also peace. One day, I know there will be peace. But that day was not the day of the battle. I can't stand watching our children fight. South Carolina got his wounds in that battle. I'll never forgive North for allowing that to happen to my little boy.

Then, he did the unspeakable. He _invaded_. Not just the expected invasion of major cities. No, he got a new general: U.S. Grant. Also known to many as "Unconditional Surrender" Grant. The very name brings chills running down my spine. He took his force straight through the heart of my dear Southern states. With every plantation he burned, every village raided, I felt a sharp pain. It grew worse and worse the farther South he marched. He was going for my capitol. I could sense it, and so could Lee.

Robert E. Lee was my last hope. If anyone could stop the Northerner, it would be him. He was as Southern as anyone could get. My boys would gladly follow his orders to the letter. He won battles for me. He was my hero. The hero I needed after I lost my last one. He was going to make everything better. He was going to win the war for me! _Was_.

Slowly, I get up off the muddy ground, Virginia soil clinging to my dress. Enough is enough. North has gone too far this time. Grant has cornered Lee in that little courthouse, but I'm not even allowed to go inside! And worse, North _is_. At most, I can wait here by the front steps as the generals come to a final agreement. I just wanted freedom. That's all! At last, I feel I can no longer keep this vigil of silence. "Is freedom too much to ask?!" I scream into the night air.

"You tell me." Comes a voice from the steps. Turning, my eyes meet with the one I never want to see again. North leans against the column, watching me with a look of disapproval, sadness, and anger. I've seen him give the states the same look after they disobeyed him.

I grind my jaw, fighting the urge to strangle him. "What do you want?!" I snarl. Why does he have to be here?! Hasn't he done enough damage?!

North sighs and walks over to me, not stopping until he's barely a foot away from me. "I want the same thing you want. I want peace."

Hot, angry tears burn down my face. "Peace?! We will never be at peace!"

Unfazed by my hostility, he gently brushes away my tears with his thumb. Just like Palmetto had done. "South... I don't want to fight you anymore. I hate fighting you."

"And you think that I like fighting you?!" I screech. Instantly, I hate that I said that. He doesn't deserve to know that. He doesn't deserve to know anything about me.

"Then why do we do it?" he whispers.

The question catches me off guard. I've been reminding myself of why I'm fighting for hours now. But somehow, looking into his blue eyes, the compassion for me that lays there despite having been my enemy for five years, all the reasons never make it to my lips. But, without an answer, something else does. His lips brush mine softly at first, but then grow more desperate. Hating myself, I kiss him back. What am I doing?! I can't stand him! It's his fault! It's all his fault! He's the one who caused every bit of my pain! How dare he kiss me! How dare he! My thoughts of anger and hate die with each moment in his embrace. I wrap my arms around his neck, though I beg my hands to strangle him, they do not. His arms slowly pull me closer to him by my waist. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Why on earth am I still kissing him?!

The door to the courthouse creaks open, revealing the two generals. North and I break apart at last, and my gaze travels to my last hope. He doesn't meet my eyes. He doesn't have to. I can tell by his slumped shoulders and fallen face, even more so by Grant's bright smile and victorious twinkle in his eyes. I've lost. North has won. I close my eyes. No. I'd been so close. So close to being my own country! So close to-! North's lips crash into mine once more. After a moment, he looks me in the eyes. "You know what happens now?"

I nod slowly. "Yes. I'm aware. I'll become your wife again."

North smiles. "Well, we are at a courthouse." He kisses me again. "But more than that. This is the beginning of something new. Something we dreamed of a century ago."

"Hm? And what would that be?"

His eyes gleam playfully in the moonlight. "A _United_ States of America."


End file.
